


How Much Longer

by thisismycoffin



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Brazil, Future Fic, Jealous Kageyama Tobio, Jealousy, M/M, Manga Spoilers, Mutual Pining, POV Hinata Shouyou, POV Kageyama Tobio, Pining, Pro Volleyball Player Kageyama Tobio, Sexual Content, editing tags as i update, how do tags work im such a noob at this, set sometime during timeskip
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:33:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24503941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisismycoffin/pseuds/thisismycoffin
Summary: Tobio is staring at his phone again. It’s been hours since he read Hinata’s message earlier this morning, but, for some reason, he still can’t comprehend what he’s seeing: Oikawa and Hinata in Brazil together. Hinata looks really happy, and he is obviously very excited about seeing Oikawa.The Schweiden Adler setter couldn’t quite put a finger on what he is feeling. He’s… annoyed? Riled up? Feeling like he wants to fly to Brazil to choke Oikawa? All those things.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou & Oikawa Tooru, Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Hoshiumi Kourai & Kageyama Tobio
Comments: 31
Kudos: 292





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! I really liked Oikawa and Hinata’s selfie in Brazil, so I wrote a fic occasioned by it. I just really love imagining Kageyama as a jealous dummy. This is chapter 1 of 3.
> 
> This is my first fic ever. I’m also very new to the hq fandom. Would appreciate tips, feedback, etc. Also, if you wanna plug any of your favorite kagehina fics, please leave them in the comments too!

**dumbass hinata**

The Great King in Rio!! Can you believe it??  
 _[Attached]_  
 _IMG_640.JPG_  
 _2 MB / 2 MB_

_[7:15]_

Tobio is staring at his phone again. It’s been hours since he read Hinata’s message earlier this morning, but, for some reason, he still can’t comprehend what he’s seeing: Oikawa and Hinata in Brazil together. Hinata looks really happy, and he is obviously very excited about seeing Oikawa.

The Schweiden Adler setter couldn’t quite put a finger on what he is feeling. He’s… annoyed? Riled up? Feeling like he wants to fly to Brazil to choke Oikawa? All those things.

Sighing in frustration, Tobio puts his phone away. He’ll be flying to Rio in a few weeks for the Olympics. He is both nervous and excited for his debut. He’s also really happy about the fact that he and Hinata will finally be in the same timezone, though he doubts he’ll be able to go out and meet with him. Even if he could, why would he want to? He has to keep his laser focus on the matches. Seeing Hinata will only unnerve him, throw him off his game, and more than anything, he doesn’t want to lose.

 _But still, wouldn’t it be nice to be with him again? Give him a few tosses?_ Maybe his former teammate could show him a couple of things about beach volleyball. Tobio had watched the videos Hinata sent of him playing in the sands of Rio. The former middle blocker sucked, and Tobio made sure to tease him about it.

“I’m still getting the hang of it,” Hinata had told him. “Just you wait. When I get back I’m gonna wipe the floor with you.”

When he gets back…

Sighing to himself, Tobio checks the clock. It’s 8 P.M. in Japan. If he texts Hinata now, he’d probably see it before he starts his morning training. He wants to ask Hinata about Oikawa in Brazil, if they did anything else, like have dinner, or hold hands, or go home together. Wasn’t Brazil a sexy place? With all the beaches and hot guys and heat? Isn’t that the stereotype? What if the Brazil aura had gone and made Hinata more interested in that stuff?

_What do I even say._

He falls asleep having sent nothing.

* * *

**dumbass hinata**

Hey did you know the Great King is playing in the Argentinian league? Isn’t that so cool?? We had dinner and played beach volleyball together. It was funny seeing the Great King fall on his face. Even the locals made fun of him.

Tbh, I was having a hard time in Brazil. JUST A LITTLE BIT, OK?? JUST A VERY LITTLE, LITTLE, TINY BIT.

But after seeing the Great King, I’m all good now!!

He’s gonna be in Rio for a week. We’re seeing each other again tomorrow.

Anyway, you must be sleeping. Good night, Bakageyama.

_[23:00]_

He reads again and again, his thoughts all muddled, like every word is melting.

_Hinata was having a hard time. And he didn’t tell me._

_Oikawa made him happy._

_They’re seeing each other again._

_Good night._

What else is there to do? Tobio groans and pushes himself off the bed. Whatever. He has to work hard. He has the Olympics. He has volleyball, and the world stage, and everything else he has wanted ever since he started playing, perhaps even more. He laces his shoes and steps out into the sun.

* * *

It’s not as if Tobio never wanted to ask Hinata out in their three years of high school. But they were teammates, friends, each other’s greatest rivals—there was simply too much to lose to justify what a confession could gain. Because if there was anything Karasuno taught him, if there was one lesson he held tightly in his hand and carried wherever he went, it was that he was part of a team. My selfishness will not get in the way, he had told himself. So he waited. But Hinata had other plans.

He remembers it clearly. They were in their final year of high school. They had come back from the Spring tourney with third place in the country, and they were months away from graduating. Tobio had been scouted, and Hinata not.

“You’re going to Rio and switching to beach volleyball?” Kageyama had shouted. “And I had to hear this from Tsukishima?”

“Yeah, Coach Washijou is going to help me,” Hinata said nonchalantly. “He told me I need to take a year after graduating to get ready, then I’ll be in Rio for two years.”

This hit Tobio like a ton of bricks. He fell silent, unable to sort through the rush of accusations and questions going through his head. He felt like a small child on the verge of a tantrum for not getting what he wants. “Why?” he remembers asking, to mean, _why can’t you just stay here with me?_

“I want to be stronger.”

“Dumbass, you’re already plenty strong!”

“It’s not enough.” Hinata’s eyes were cold and hard. “If I’m going to stand on the world stage, I need to be able to do everything. Everything! Perfectly! I’m not enough, don’t you get it? I need to be stronger, to fly higher.” Hinata had a steely determination in his face that Tobio knew he couldn’t sway, no matter what he said. This was Hinata after all—the boy who grew from the concrete, who sprouted wings, who towered over other players despite being 162 centimeters tall—there was nothing that could keep him. “I don’t want to be left behind,” he said as if that was the end of that.

_Dumbass. You’re the one who’s leaving me._

In their final year of high school, Tobio had turned away. “Do whatever you want. Get stronger, get better. I’ll wait.” If Hinata had seen the expression on his face, would he have stayed?

He wouldn’t have, Tobio knows this now. _His decision to leave has nothing to do with me._

* * *

“How’s Hinata Shouyou doing in Brazil? Heard from him recently?” Hoshiumi asks as they’re walking to the station after practice.

“He’s doing okay, I guess,” Tobio replies. “He’s still learning.”

Hoshiumi grins, cracks his knuckles. “I’ve been looking forward to a rematch. I can’t wait for him to get back.”

“Yeah. Me, too. He’s having a blast in Rio,” Tobio says, “playing with all sorts of people.”

Hoshiumi cocks his head at this, eyes narrowing. Tobio knows his smallest teammate is perceptive, so he doesn’t bother to hide what he means. Hoshiumi scoffs. “Is this about Oikawa that’s got you in such a bad mood these past few days? You jealous?” he teases.

“How do you know Oikawa?”

“I follow him on Twitter. I keep up with different foreign leagues.”

 _What’s Twitter?_ Tobio wants to drop the subject. His chest is wringing too much.

“You better not be this easy to read when you’re playing,” Hoshiumi continues, clearly enjoying poking fun of the setter.

“I can’t help it. He’s so far away.”

“Just talk to him. Clear the air.”

“It’s none of my business what he does, or with who. It’s not like we have that kind of relationship.”

“Then stop being such a little bitch about it.”

Hoshiumi’s frankness is both boon and bane, and tonight, more so the latter. They drop the subject, discuss instead how everyone on the team performed during practice. What else is there to say? Tobio feels the weight in his chest getting heavier, like an anchor, and who knows how long until he drowns. _For a nineteen-year-old, I’m too weary._

* * *

**dumbass hinata**

Video call?

_[19:30]_

Sure! Give me a sec.

  
_[19:32]_

“Hey, it’s been a while,” Tobio says. His heart settles upon seeing his former teammate’s face, that large ridiculous smile that makes him shine so bright it almost hurts to look. Tobio notes Hinata’s sharper jawline, what little baby fat he had in his cheeks have gone away. His skin is even darker than before, his hair’s shorter, too.

“Kageyama! It’s been so long. How’s everything with you?”

“Oh, you know, just preparing for the Olympics.” At this, Hinata scowls, obviously envious. Tobio grins. He can’t help it, he likes to set up the challenge each time. “How about you? Have you tamed the sand and wind?”

“Ah, well, it’s taking a bit longer to get used to it.”

They talk like this for half an hour, catching up, everything so supposedly ordinary and light and easy, but Tobio is skirting around what he wants to know. _So what did you and Oikawa do?_ he wants to ask, and he turns the question over and over in his head as Hinata chats away about the difficulties of beach, how different the food is, how hot the weather can get.

He shouldn’t, it’ll ruin the good mood, but he can’t help himself—he has to know. The words are out before he can even think of the repercussions: “So, you and Oikawa in Rio, huh? What did you do?” Is that accusation coloring his voice?

Tobio has always been observant. It’s a skill he has honed all his life. After all, if he wanted to be the greatest setter, he had to know exactly how each player on the court moved, know their conditions, their annoyances, their preferences, be attuned to each minor shift in the air. He wishes he hadn’t seen it—the way Hinata’s face flushed, eyes shifted. It all happened in a split second, but, for Tobio, time seemed to have stopped.

_Ah._

“I have to go,” Tobio mutters. His knees are weak, his palms clammy. There’s a lump in his throat he can’t swallow.

“Wait—” but Tobio hangs up their video call. He leans against the wall, his body numb all over.

* * *

Three nights later, Tobio takes someone home for the first time. The man is also a professional volleyball player. They met through mutual friends who had asked Tobio out for dinner. The man, probably in his late twenties, had been eyeing the nineteen-year-old all night. His desire lay all out in the open, and Tobio obliged.

The man has muscles rippling under his shirt, he has big hands, a sharp jaw and pointed nose, a nice enough smile. Despite being a virgin, Tobio can appreciate good looks for what they are. The man—what was his name again? Saito or something—rakes a hand through his hair nervously as thunder rumbles in the distance. Tobio opens the door to his apartment.

_He has orange hair._

Tobio is a virgin, sure, but he knows how this works. He pushes Saito-or-whatever-his-name-is against a wall and presses his lips against his. Tobio leads him to his bedroom. The man takes off his shirt and pushes Tobio to his bed. They trace their fingers over each other. The man’s hands are sandpaper rough against Tobio’s skin. He undoes his belt and lowers his pants. They’re both naked now, raking their eyes over each other. Tobio notes a mole on his hip, a little detail that feels, oddly enough, quite tender.

The man grinds against him, and Tobio feels now the urge to confess. He’s shy about it but not ashamed. Why would he be? “I’ve never done this before.”

Saito-or-whatever looks startled, surprised.

_Did I ruin it?_

But then he grins and whispers, “It’s okay. I’ll teach you a few things.” He trails kisses on Tobio’s torso until he reaches his groin. He takes the young setter’s erection into his mouth and digs his fingers into Tobio’s hips. They both moan.

It’s warm, Tobio thinks. It feels good. Really good.

It feels unreal, how amazing it all is. This hot mouth, this pleasure, the new sensations running through him like currents of electricity. All of his doubts and fears disappeared into the back of his mind, like bad dreams shaken off once his feet would hit the ground on his morning runs. He doesn’t want it to end.

Thoughtlessly, Tobio runs his fingers through the tuft of orange hair.

And suddenly the spell is broken.

It’s wrong. It feels wrong. All of it.

His body grows cold.

He pushes the man off of him.

_His hair was softer than this._

“I don’t want this. I’m sorry. Please leave.”

There is an uneasy silence in the air. It’s cold. Tobio can’t bear to look at him. Wordlessly, the man gets up, dresses, and leaves, closing the door quietly behind him.

Tobio sits there, flaccid, his head empty. What is this feeling? He can’t quite put a finger to it. He buries his face into one of his pillows and screams.

After what seems like forever, he gets up and steps into the shower. He makes sure the temperature of the water is as hot as he can tolerate. He wants the cold to leave his bones, to excise his misery out of his skin. Heat kills everything that can harm you, he knows this. A fever is just the body’s way of killing a virus, a way to heal. He wants to kill something in him, but what exactly? He can’t name what he feels, but he thinks he’s getting close.

When he gets out of the shower, he hears rain pounding against his window, like ghosts trying to get in. He checks his phone before he sleeps.

**dumbass hinata**

Kageyama, r u mad at me?

_[22:30 pm]_

No.

_[22:35 pm]_

I miss you.

_[22:37 pm]_

I miss you too.

I miss Japan.

_[22:38 pm]_

_Ah._

Tobio knows, despite what everyone says about him—that he’s a prodigy, a genius of a setter, a young man making waves yet still aiming for greater heights—he isn’t special. He’s just another piece of Japan the sun left behind.

* * *

“I might be asexual,” Tobio says absentmindedly. Beside him, Hoshiumi spits his drink.

They’re at a small party organized by the Schweiden Adlers, a little send-off before Tobio leaves for the Olympics in Rio.

“This is way too much information, yet again,” Hoshiumi says.

“I can’t seem to fully enjoy sex. I’ve tried, with about a handful of guys and girls, but it always feels wrong somewhere in the middle, and I end up never going all the way. It’s frustrating, not understanding.”

“Dude, cut it out. I don’t want to know this.”

“I just don’t get it. I think something’s wrong with me.”

A few minutes of silence. _Maybe I did share too much._

“Well, even if you were asexual, there’s nothing wrong with that, is there? Not that I know much about stuff like this,” Hoshiumi responds.

They’re quiet again. Tobio shouldn’t be drinking, so he’s opted for orange juice. The rest of the team are busy having fun, sharing pictures of their families and the trips they’ve taken in the last couple of off-season months. Hoshiumi had noticed Tobio had been in his own little bubble and decided to sit with him. It’s a small gesture, but one Tobio feels warm and grateful for. Hoshiumi’s had a few bottles of beer himself. For a guy small of stature, he sure drinks a lot.

“Kageyama,” Hoshiumi finally says, looking annoyed, “maybe you’re not asexual. Maybe you’re just an idiot in love.”

* * *

**dumbass hinata**

Can u believe people here are calling me Ninja Shouyou?? What a cool nickname!! (((o(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)o)))

_[7:30]_

Are you sure you’re not making this up.

_[7:35]_

Shut up Bakageyama.

I’m coming home in a few months.

I’ll see u soon

_[7:38]_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > The fallen crow grits his teeth. The other team serves. What’s the point of coming to Brazil if I can’t get stronger? He digs the ball and scrambles to get up so he can spike. What’s the point of leaving everything if I’m always a step behind? He plants his feet into his jump and shoots up just as his partner sets, then he swings his arm—finally, a good one!—and scores. On instinct he shouts, “Kageyama, did you see that—?”
>> 
>>   
> _Oh._
>> 
>> Of course, he’s not there; it’s just the sun, the sand, the sea, laughing at him.
>> 
>> Embarrassed, Shouyou chuckles, shakes his head, and readjusts his cap. _Man_ , he thinks, _I really need to stop doing that_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hinata POV in Brazil!
> 
> This chapter was sooo hard to write ;__;

It’s been six months but Shouyou is still getting used to Brazil and its narrow winding streets, the incomprehensible signs, the beat and thrum of the city.

He’s still getting used to the sea and how it changes shades of blue depending on the time of day—from navy to azure to cerulean to cornflower and cyan and emerald—he’s running out of names, Shouyou never knew there could be so many kinds of blue. He’s still getting used to how the waves lap on the shore, nipping at his ankles, some days mild, others hungry.

He’s still getting used to how the sky bleeds red, orange, and pink at the end of each day, the sun sinking low into the water, glinting like a jewel. (If truth to be told, Shouyou will never quite get used to how breathtaking it all looks.)

He’s also getting used to the languages rolling off of people’s tongues—Portuguese, Spanish, English—drawls of incomprehensible syllables. And how does everyone always seem so relaxed? Why is everyone here so casual, whether with meetings, time, how they call each other, the ways they touch?

He’s slowly getting used to the heat, how oppressive it can get, like hands clamping down on your mouth and binding your legs. How some days the heat makes everything hazy and slow, like the world were dripping in honey. The heat is inescapable, Shouyou understands, and it coats every body, including his own, with a constant sheen of sweat.

Above all, Shouyou is still getting used to the sand, how it shifts and sinks beneath him that he can never get enough purchase to fly. The sand—cruel, cruel sand—mocks him every time he falls, fails to jump, as if saying, _where are your wings now, boy_?

 _Don’t get impatient_ , Shouyou thinks to himself again, attempting to jump higher. It’s become his mantra ever since coming to Rio. Every time the wind gets the ball first, every time he can’t get up fast enough to receive or set or spike, every time he fails and messes up, he thinks, _Don’t get impatient. Don’t get impatient._ It doesn’t matter how many times he says it, his impatience just keeps building up as his confidence crumbles like sand.

Today is no different. He has a practice match, and he’s partnered up with another beginner. Their competition took the first set, and the points stand at 10-16 right now.

_Dammit._

Shouyou swipes the sweat from his brow and takes a deep breath. _Calm down. Calm down._

He serves the ball but the wind blows it off course. 10-17.

The fallen crow grits his teeth. The other team serves. _What’s the point of coming to Brazil if I can’t get stronger?_ He digs the ball and scrambles to get up so he can spike. _What’s the point of leaving everything if I’m always a step behind?_ He plants his feet into his jump and shoots up just as his partner sets, then he swings his arm— _finally, a good one!_ —and scores. On instinct he shouts, “Kageyama, did you see that—?”

 _Oh_.

Of course, he’s not there; it’s just the sun, the sand, the sea, laughing at him.

Embarrassed, Shouyou chuckles, shakes his head, and readjusts his cap. _Man_ , he thinks, _I really need to stop doing that._

At the end of the match (the final set being a sad 13-21), Shouyou’s partner thanks him for giving his best. In Portuguese, the orange-haired boy apologizes, says they’ll get the next one. Again.

He keeps losing, but _don’t mind, don’t mind_ , there’s always a next one. Shouyou will do whatever it takes no matter how many times—he’ll toil under Brazil’s sun until his skin’s burnt, push against the sand to find flight over and over, tame the wind, leave no stone unturned—to stand on his own two feet.

Shouyou hurries to the restaurant where he works as a part-time delivery boy. Cycling, at least, is one thing he’s confident in no matter where he is. After this, he’ll put in some hours at the indoor volleyball court. Teach a few tourists. Then dinner. Then sleep. He does this every day. The routine, at least, is something he’s used to.

* * *

**bakageyama**

Just checking in.

_[16:30]_

All good! Otw to work.

_[16:32]_

Don’t get lost again, dumbass.

_[16:33]_

Shut it. I can read the signs now.

_[16:34]_

Well, Shouyou didn’t exactly lie; he can read the signs but the streets in his neighborhood all look the same, and in no time, he doesn’t know where he is anymore. He circles back, finally gets to the right house, but now the food’s cold and the customer angry. Shouyou apologizes profusely. The customer shuts the door in his face. No tip.

Back in his apartment, he realizes his bag is open and the wallet his sister Natsu had given him is missing. _Shit, shit, my phone—here—ID—here_. He sighs in both relief and frustration.

A familiar feeling of dread creeps in. Shouyou pushes against it, but before long he’s hunched over in a corner recounting, once again, all the comforts he’s left in Japan and how different his life is now.

 _Wait, okay, let’s think about this rationally._ Sure, he had known there would be plenty of challenges switching to beach. And yeah, it’s a different country, with a different language, a different culture, and it would take time to adjust. Sure, Pedro, his roommate is a recluse and they barely talk, and that makes Shouyou all the lonelier. And yes, his family and former teammates had been nervous about him moving (Yacchi checks in every day wondering if he had died and Tsukishima has implied on numerous occasions that Shouyou wouldn’t make it out of Brazil alive). Alright, he’s homesick and he can’t really tell anyone because he doesn’t want them to worry. And, okay, he’s making slow progress against the sand, and he feels his wings have been clipped and everything’s going wrong, but, on the bright side—

 _Hmm._ What was the bright side?

Shouyou shakes his head and vocalizes, “Ha! Ha! Ha!” _Voice it from the diaphragm! From the diaphragm!_ It’s a trick he learned in school during a mental health seminar: simulated, self-initiated laughter can trick the mind into thinking you’re actually happy. Shouyou does this for a full three minutes. He feels a little silly, but if science says it works then it should work, right?

He’s okay! He’s happy! Everything’s fine! It doesn’t matter if it’s a lie, as long as he believes it.

* * *

**bakageyama**

Kageyama what do you do when you’re sad?

_[19:45]_

I practice. Or I look at some of the best volleyball plays online.

Why? What’s up?

Are you okay?

_[19:46]_

Yeah, yeah I’m fine!!

I was just wondering.

_[19:47]_

Are you sure you’re alright?

_[19:48]_

Of course, I’m fine.

Gotta go. Practice!

_[19:49]_

* * *

Among the lies Shouyou’s told himself since coming to Brazil, here’s number one: This has nothing to do with Kageyama—nothing at all.

Some days Shouyou believes this with irrevocable conviction, but some days—like today—he can see through the lies he’s wrapped around himself.

He thinks about a conversation he and Kageyama had on their way home one night. It had been just after the dark-haired boy was offered a position in a V. League Division 1 team. He wasn’t exactly listening when Kageyama was prattling on about how good the team’s offer was, except when he suddenly asked, “I’m going to get a place of my own once I start, so do you want to live with me?”

Shouyou looked at Kageyama who was staring at him expectantly—almost pleadingly—and for a moment—just one brief moment—he thought about saying yes. But then he shook his head and said, “I have other plans after graduation.”

“What plans?”

“It’s a secret. I don’t want to jinx it.” He waved Kageyama off, clambered onto his bike, and pedaled on ahead without another word.

Maybe it wasn’t the most graceful exit or the most polite rejection, but it was the best Shouyou could do. Because, if he’s being honest, every cell in his body had screamed to jump at Kageyama’s offer. In that brief moment, a life together flashed before his eyes: all the quiet mornings, the breakfasts and dinners they would share, the casual touches, the steamy nights. He imagined watching Kageyama’s matches and screaming for him at the stands, congratulating him on a job well done when he got home. And in this alternate future, maybe volleyball would’ve still been a part of Shouyou’s life—he would’ve polished his skills, gotten into a team, made a small name for himself—but it would’ve paled in comparison to everything he would have shared with Kageyama.

If Shouyou’s being honest, that terrified him. How much can you love someone until you simply disappear? That’s why he moved all the way to the other side of the globe: he’ll build himself up so he’ll never buckle under the weight of his desire for someone else, never be a dim light consumed by a more dazzling shine.

_I can do it. I have to._

Truth be told, he really thought he could. But ever since leaving Miyagi something had lodged itself inside his chest, clawing.

* * *

Tonight at the beach, people of all ages are playing. A man asks Shouyou to sub in while he gets a drink. After some time, their team scores and Shouyou screams, “Nice kill!” Behind him, he hears someone say in Japanese, “Huh? Seriously? Is this real life?”

Shouyou turns and—“Great King?!”

“You’ve sure gotten big,” the former Aoba Johsai captain and setter Oikawa Tooru says, flashing him a warm smile.

In this moment, something unclenches inside Shouyou, like he’s finally exhaling a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. _God_ , _finally_. “What are you doing here, Oikawa?” he asks, a little too excitedly.

“That’s my line.”

“I’m here to train using beach volleyball!”

Oikawa looks taken aback, but his surprise gives way to laughter. “Man, you’re a scary kid sometimes, Shrimp!”

The Aoba Johsai alumnus waves goodbye to his friends who are heading to dinner. Shouyou asks Oikawa why he’s in Brazil (he’s playing in the Argentinian league) and why Argentina, he seemed like he’d totally go to Italy or something (Oikawa strikes a pose and says, “I totally get it. I would fit in perfectly in Italy. Never been there though!”)

Oikawa treats him to dinner, tells him about the professional player that had inspired him to be a setter, his life in Argentina. They play beach volleyball: Two beginners getting the hang of the sand between their toes. They talk and laugh and run around like old friends, and Shouyou becomes reacquainted with a long-forgotten comfort, remembering, that volleyball is fun—he likes leveling up! Being able to do something new. He loves the thrill and the challenge of carving out his own path. What had he been worried about all this time? His troubles melt into the background, carried away by the wind.

* * *

Sitting on the bed in Oikawa’s hotel room, with the older boy showering in the bathroom, Shouyou realizes his mistake. Earlier that night, Oikawa had said, “It’s my last night in Rio, so how about we make it memorable? My place?” Shouyou had thought they would just be hanging out as they have almost every night that week, but he had been naïve.

_No way around it. Just need to straighten out the misunderstanding._

He is mentally rehearsing his apologies when Oikawa steps out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist. For a second, Shouyou reconsiders turning down Oikawa’s proposition, thinks, _has the Great King always looked this good_?

“Appreciating the view?” Oikawa smirks, but his eyes soften as he leans in. Before their lips could touch, Shouyou pushes him away and says, “I’m sorry for giving you the wrong idea, Oikawa! I don’t… I don’t really want to do this.”

Oikawa makes a face—somewhere between surprise and annoyance—then pouts. “Huh? Why not?”

Shouyou fiddles with his fingers, incredibly embarrassed. “Ah, well, I just… personally, prefer, only sleeping with someone I love, you know? So, uh, this isn’t really my thing,” he explains. “Not that there’s anything wrong if this is your thing! Or anyone’s!” he quickly adds, realizing he might sound judgmental. “I just prefer… uhh… to have love in the whole equation.”

Oikawa sighs and shrugs his shoulders. “I guess it can’t be helped. I mean, it’s really embarrassing being rebuffed like this, but I get it.” Oikawa pulls a shirt and a pair of sweats from his bag and puts them on. “Alright. Let’s forget this happened.” He plops down beside the younger boy.

Shouyou feels terrible and apologizes again. “I really enjoyed this whole week with you though. Sorry we’re ending it like this.”

“It’s fine! It’s fine! Let’s stop talking about it!” Oikawa shook his head. “So, Shrimp, you’ve never done it with anyone here? Seems like a waste not having a few flings.”

“I’ve never done it with anyone. Period.”

Oikawa jumps in surprise. “What? Not even with Tobio?”

“Why would I do with it with Kageyama?” Shouyou asks.

“Weren’t you dating in high school?”

“We never dated.”

“I don’t believe you. You were inseparable! Every time I saw you on court you two looked like you wanted get it on.”

“We were just teammates.”

“Then why are you blushing so much? You’re so in love with him—just look at you!”

Shouyou clicks his tongue. He falls silent at Oikawa finding him out. Thoughtfully he asks, “Oikawa, isn’t being in love kind of… scary? Like, wanting someone so much, needing them. Isn’t it kind of like you’re going to disappear?”

Oikawa thinks about this for a minute. “I suppose if someone doesn’t have a stable sense of who they are it’s easy to get lost when you’re in love. But if that’s something you’re worried about,” and he grins at Shouyou when he says, “I think you’re fine!” Seeing the confusion on Shouyou’s face, Oikawa continues. “Well, don’t you think coming here to Rio and doing everything on your own is proof enough you’re brave and strong? I think you need faith in yourself, Shrimp.”

Oikawa’s words echoed in little ginger’s head. That thing that had been clutching his lungs ever since he moved to Brazil is loosening its grip. Tears begin to sting the back of his eyes. He holds them back but when he feels Oikawa’s hand patting his head, Shouyou can no longer stop himself from weeping.

Oikawa panics, immediately removing his hand from Shouyou’s hair. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! W-Why are you crying?”

“I miss Kageyama,” Shouyou croaks.

“Ugh. Why does Tobio have to ruin everything,” Oikawa grumbles before wrapping his arms around Shouyou. “It’s not like I can kick you out if you’re crying! Just get it all out.” He soothingly pats the younger boy’s back. He placates him with the occasional “there, there” and “it’ll be fine”.

Shouyou must have fallen asleep at some point, and when he wakes up Oikawa’s arms are still snaked around him. He feels awkward at this strangely intimate scene and slowly extricates himself from the setter’s grasp. As he does so, Oikawa stirs. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes he asks, “You good?”

“Much better!” Shouyou beams. He says his thanks again and again to a yawning Oikawa, who is barely listening.

The two have breakfast together and Shouyo sees Oikawa off. They thank each other for a week well-spent: Oikawa says he’s feeling nice and recharged after the feeling of beginning again, and Shouyou’s mind has been cleared of whatever lingering doubts he’s had since that day Kageyama asked if he wanted to live with him.

They part ways and Shouyou heads to work, excitedly thinking about how he’ll finally tell Kageyama how he feels.

* * *

**bakageyama**

Bakageyama [poop emoji], nothing happened between me and Oikawa. So stop ignoring me.

_[20:00]_

I’m not ignoring you.

I’m just busy.

Also, I don’t care what you did or didn’t do with Oikawa.

Dumbass.

_[20:01]_

Sure, sure. If u say so.

_[20:01]_

IT’S TRUE. I DON’T CARE.

_[20:02]_

Of course u don’t.

_[20:02]_

I really don’t.

_[20:03]_

Nothing happened? Really?

_[20:10]_

Nothing at all. I swear.

_[20:10]_

_Okay._

_[20:10]_

_Not that I care._

_[20:13]_

_Can I call?_

_[20:14]_

_Give me 10 minutes._

_[20:15]_

“What’s up?” Kageyama asks. He’s trying to look irritated but Shouyou can see a small smile playing on his lips.

“Ah, Kageyama, there’s something important I have to say.” Shouyou’s heart is beating so hard, he thinks it might just jump out of his chest. Does he have a fever? His face suddenly feels so hot. “I should have said it before—like, a really long time ago!” he continues. “But… uh… I guess I was a bit scared. So…”

Kageyama perks up, intrigued. There’s a glint of something like hope in his eyes. “What is it?” he asks.

“Uhh… So…” Shouyou’s choking. He wants—is desperate—to say it, but the words are stuck in his throat.

“Spit it out, dumbass.” Kageyama looks like he’s on the edge of his seat.

“I… l-l…o…ve…” Shouyou feels like he’s seconds from collapsing.

“Go on.”

“I love…”

“You love…?”

“…volleyball.” _That’s not what I meant to say!_

Kageyama looks frustrated but then he sighs and says, “I love volleyball, too.”

“That’s not it! I want to say something else! I’m just nervous. What I meant to say is—”

“It’s okay,” Kageyama interrupts him. “You don’t have to say it right now. I said I’ll wait for you, didn’t I?” He looks at Shouyou straight in the eye when he says, “Tell me when you get back.”

Shouyou stares at him, dumbfounded. Has Kageyama always been this considerate? Slowly, a smile breaks across his face. “You got it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!! Thanks for getting this far.
> 
> I was really struck by how Hinata used faking laughter to feel better in Chapter 371. There’s some research (https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/the-athletes-way/201609/how-self-initiated-laughter-can-make-you-feel-better) that found that inducing laughter actually makes you feel better so I wanted to explore the idea of self-deception.
> 
> Would appreciate your thoughts and feedback! Next chapter will be about Hinata coming back to Japan and meeting up with Kageyama. It’s gonna be a fluffy and smutty one, folks. If you have any ideas on what their first date should be, leave it in the comments!

**Author's Note:**

> I really like Hoshiumi so I wanted to work him into the story as kind of Kageyama's closest friend in Schweiden Adlers.
> 
> Next chapter will be Hinata POV in Brazil. Will try to update in about a week. Stay tuned!


End file.
